Myriad
by Fickle Luck
Summary: Fiction occupies it's own world; drabbles of the xxxHolic world.
1. Silence and secrets

Silence and secrets were her bread and tea. She drank the secrets in sips, the first to pinpoint the flavor, the second to appreciate, and the third to let her taste buds savor and bask. Sometimes it was…unpleasant. Sometimes, the secrets decided to taste bitter and leave a stench to remind her tongue each and every taste. As one often does, she ignores it and asks for another cup, thank you very much, I must commend you on the brew; thirst was thirst.

But silence, ah, silence was different. Left to bake on its own the silence is suddenly hard to chew, suddenly something that became too thick, too hard, too solid to taste. She liked crumpets and biscuits more, if you wouldn't mind her asking.

Actually, tea was _ancient_ nowadays—and she was a modern, upstanding, stately woman. "Bring on the sake!"

_"How can you always have an excuse for drinking?!"_


	2. And he smiled gently, to reassure her

"Wishes are fickle things! Don't think that you can control them, because they will always control you, possess you, string you up and make you dance for _their _whim!

"Yuuko…"

"Don't be a fool, if you put your heart in your wishes they'll fly away and you'll be left empty, _hollow!_ They're just like shooting stars; they keep yearning, reaching for the heavens, for those stars right out of reach—"

"—calm down—"

"Why are you so _stupid_, why don't you see that _it – won't – work_? I don't want to see you fall anymore, not you of all people - !"

"I am human, and it is only human to hope—leave me to what humanity I have left, would you? Yuuko, friend; don't worry!"

"And stop _smiling_! How am I supposed to be reassured?"

"Yuuko, don't be irrational, it doesn't fit a beautiful woman."

"_Fine_. Just…don't promise me anything. Don't promise me that you'll do something or won't because you are the _worst_ liar in the world."

"Thank you."


	3. Accidental

**Title:** Accidental...  
**Characters:** Watanuki + family  
**Word Count:** 520  
**Genre:** Humor

* * *

The windows gleamed as the morning light stretched its arms, and the cat purred, arching its back and ruffling its fur until it heard a crash from the upstairs room, first on the right.

_"Argh!" _

For guaranteed amusement more than anything, the cat _leisurely_ leapt to the floor and sidled up to the staircase, and rail. He detested the carpet.

And when Watanuki stumbled out of the room, he would be tackled in the front by a mass of ginger fur.

"Argh!"

…And would be sent stumbling down the hall, into an elderly sort of man whose only pleasure in life was to stick to a rigid schedule. The jostling of limbs caused the coffee – _(black and strong it was his favorite even if the doctor prescribed otherwise) _to tumble, and Watanuki's distraught attempts to unlatch the cat were background music to the Fall.

_Crash!_

"GAH!"

And then the cat whipped its bushy tail and unbalanced the old man enough for the Sunday newspaper to fall into the puddle previously known as his specially brewed coffee…

_"Gah!"_

And with one commendably vicious and painful effort by Watanuki, and commendably valiant by the cat, said cat was separated.

Widened eyes and a gaping mouth signaled Watanuki's growing realization, quickly silenced by a stare that forced Watanuki to stand straight, close his mouth, tilt his head upwards to not see the look in his eye.

He was hit by guilt; the rule was to not disrupt—never disrupt, to avoid him on these mornings when Watanuki was being his clumsy self…

"…go to school."

Watanuki blinked in surprise at not being in trouble, but tore down the stairs with disregard for the cat that pawed at the sodden mess. Before darting out the door, Watanuki turned around and fidgeted.

"What?"

Watanuki blushed, and stammered out an apology.

"G-gomen ne! I'll make up for it when I get back!"

His concerns were waved off as the man shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It's unhealthy anyway."

Watanuki looked completely frozen, confused about what to do, then he smiled brightly. The toll of the clocks in his house told him he was going to be late unless he bolted _right now_ and he obeyed the orders.

The cat slinked down the steps and over to its perch by the window, curling up as Watanuki's father smiled and plucked up the newspaper and mug, walking down the stairs. . He spread the newspaper sheets out, that weren't as bad as he thought they would be, and grinned when there was another crash from upstairs.

"Eek!"

The stumbling woman flitted down the hall and down the steps, making a note of the accident by the stairs, and skittering over to her husband, kissing him on the cheek.

"Reading the Sunday funnies?"

A sheepish look answered her, making her smile so bright and she twirled to the cat, petting him fondly. The cat would abide her caress today; even if he did like Watanuki better, and purred. She smiled again and tilted her head sideways in thought.

"I think we should get rid of the carpet."

The cat purred louder, plan successful.


	4. On the checkered floor

The ceiling was filled with patterns and bright colors as the dance floor was filled with dancing masks and colorful costumes. Among the bumbling shapes that could only be called graceful through _creative_ reasoning, were two children that could be called graceful in a breathless sigh.

Delicacy and beauty lined one girl in white lace as she brightly smiled, dancing with a slender, growing youth, looking crisp in a black suit with curtails.

On this scene; a dance upon the crisp evening which neared midnight; were these two children, an Aphrodite and Adonis to be, flitting across checkered floor and dodging between their audiences that could only look upon these two with adoration.

And one adoring youth, grungy and unkempt, hiding behind an exotic potted plant, did the noble see. The surrounding crowd she had immersed herself jerked back when she cackled at the boy's attempt to blend in with the wall.

Mischief glinted in her eye as she watched the scene with amusement.

_Wah!_

Palpitation dripped from his forehead; he couldn't believe what he had stumbled into! Wrong. He _could_ believe. He could believe that he would be stupid enough to barge into the annual ball for the highest of the elite, for the prissy, the snobby, the ones who reeked of newly minted silver and gold.

One said snob turned on his handcrafted soles, gesturing for other said prissy and snobbish to, he supposed follow, but he didn't know for sure as he had already darted away, his vest tails differing from the rest of the crowd that night in being frayed and without any elegance.

Watanuki was _not_ elegant.

He knew this, gravity knew this, hell, the stairs knew this which was why when he took one step for where he presumed the exit to be, he somehow was jerked by the plant tugging on his vest in the _opposite_ direction and he fell sideways at an angle, then fell the other way when he tried to right himself and fell up the stairs when he tried to go there as a last ditch effort.

It felt like fate was telling him—_commanding him with a sinister laugh that he heard behind—_that he wasn't getting out of this place in one piece.

Light giggling—prettier than the melody that filled this rich atmosphere—and a gloved hand—which he knew from sight was petite and soft underneath the silk—offered assistance and merriment at his situation as he raised his head.

Her smile was like sunshine.

More than aghast, he was a tad fearful of what such an action—contact with this miss that had radiance, _like the stars!_, could spell out for his fate, he stumbled back, blushing and mumbling incomprehensibly.

Luck and karma conspiring against him; he accidentally shoved the other kid, the other kid stared _down _at him—Watanuki suspected _that_ was another shot from karma at his pride—and put him upright, with his gloved hands and spotless shoes.

Incredulous about a numerous of reasons; his shoes were trodden on twenty times today, his glasses had fallen off about five stumbles ago, about being _outclassed_ in love when he was technically only in love for thirty seconds, he blamed karma again.

"Wah!"

The other boy was silent, brushing off his gloves.

Leveling him with the best glare he could give, due to his vision problems, he grumbled back. "It's only respectable to talk back when talked to!"

Gold, half-lidded irises pointed out the flaws in his reasoning. "It's _respectable_ to know your place and thank the person whom you've knocked into."

"You…!" an accusatory finger matched his accusatory statement, as he gathered his wits before him,"…are _annoying!"_

Shooting down this peasant boy's bravado with a blank stare, he ignored him as the lass inquired _radiantly! _She giggled beautifully. "I think you've lost your spectacles?"

Watanuki turned to her, smiling. "Thank you! I, I don't know how to express my gratitude!"

Hand offered to him with a smile, Watanuki blushed madly and took her hand holding it gingerly in his two, shaking with earnest.

Laughter sounded like heavenly choir of bells to him as he smiled brightly. Then, his grip was gently and firmly tugged away as the other boy took his hand and shook it. Mouth open and breath already inhaled, he started to think up what to say to _him_, only for the breath to be knocked out of him as he opened his hand to show Watanuki's beat up glasses in his grasp.

Watanuki deflated.

"We've been tracking you down all night--isn't Doumeki-san noble?"

A bit back retort to the "Noble Doumeki-san" died as Watanuki turned to the miss. "Surely your lady downplays her own efforts! You must've used your intelligence to track me down!"

"Doumeki-san helped me through the crowd."

"…then you must've found my glasses and set out to find me!"

"A beautiful countess gave this to me and asked politely to find you."

Watanuki laughed nervously, and slanted his eyes to Doumeki.

"Tha--!" Attempt one: failed.

"_Thank--!" _Strike two.

_"…noble bastard!"_


End file.
